Ripped
by 7starfish7
Summary: What happened with Elliot and Olivia between the fight scene and when he went to see Dr. Hendricks. Very M. No fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I honestly don't know what corner of my mind this crawled out of but I just saw this episode and decided to write a fic with it. This is the first time I have ever written anything even remotely close to this but I thought I would give it a try. This will probably only be two or three chapters long but if enough people like it, I will develop it into a full story. And of course, because its me, this will eventually be E/O. Okay, enough stalling, here ya go. Fingers crossed.**

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><p>He's pacing and she doesn't know what to do. Her heart is beating one-thousand times a minute and with every drop of sweat that slips from his forehead she gets more and more worried. Because he's pacing, and silent, staring at the floor, detached.<p>

"Elliot?" She tries tentatively. She doesn't want to startle him, not when he is so on edge.

His knuckles are still bloody and he isn't sure whose blood it is. After the fight, after his old partner beat his own son, after Elliot took a swing in the boy's defense, after a swing became a punch, and a punch became more, until his ex-partner was lying on the ground with blood on his face, from Elliot's knuckles; and he's just pacing.

She didn't know what to do. He wanted to be left alone, he told her that, but she couldn't bring herself to leave him. So there they are, at her apartment, the only place where she can make sure he wont do anything stupid.

"Elliot, talk to me?" It's a question and he stares at her, unable, or unwilling, to look at the floor any longer. The tile is too shiny and he can see his reflection. He can see the blood on his face and the rage in his eyes.

So he turns to her, where he see no blood, no rage, just concern. She is sitting on the arm of her couch and he stalks over to her. He must look intimidating because he swears he just saw her flinch away. It was a small movement, without a trained eye no one could have noticed it.

But he did. He collapsed on the couch next to her and buried his head in his hands. Everyone was fucking afraid of him.

But then he felt her hand on his shoulder and relaxed a little as her palm stretched out over his back and began rubbing small circles.

He felt like a child, a fucking child that was being comforted after fucking up big time and knowing that it was only a matter of time before Daddy found out.

He grabbed her hand and stilled her movements. His eyes were dark as they stared into hers. He could see her heart breaking for him. He knew she saw the fear, the rage, and the pure carnal desperation for things to be different. He pulled at her hand and brought her to sit in hip lap.

Maybe it was because she felt sorry for him, maybe it was because she didn't know what else to do, or maybe it was because he was her best friend and she loved him and therefore was unable to deny him in his time of need.

Whatever the reason, she didn't pull back when he kissed her. Not even when the kiss turned angry and rough.

In fact, she didn't the opposite. She pulled him to her and ran her fingers through his short hair. But then she felt his hands on hers again, pulling and pinning them to her side as he wrapped his arms around her to keep her still.

He wanted, needed, to be in control. Normally, she would not have let it get to this. She liked control. She liked to say when and where and how but this was Elliot. This was the man that she could trust with her life.

So she relinquished the control. And she didn't care that he was on top of her, not even when he hastily ripped away their clothes and started roughly palming her breasts.

Even when he started thrusting and she yelped into his mouth at his size and the vigorous way he claimed her, she didn't mind.

Because she was enjoying herself.

And he didn't seem to mind at all when she started clawing at his back, being as harsh with him as he was with her.

It spurred him on, made him work faster, harder, each piercing thrust earning something between and scream and a moan from her, which he caught with his lips.

She could tell he was near his climax. Not only had his kisses turned to bites but he intensified his thrusts, burying himself so deep inside her she wondered if he would be able to find his way back out.

And then he was panting again, coming down from his high as he pulled out of her bruised body.

He collected his clothes, refusing to look at her the whole time he dressed. This made her nervous. Had she done something wrong, was he regretting this? She sat up on the couch and winced at the cramping in her legs and the painful pressure as she placed them together.

He looked at her then, as he handed her her blouse from off the floor.

She was silent, as was he, as he slowly began going over what had just happened in his head. He saw the blood on his knuckles from where he had hit Pete, he saw the blood on her neck from where he had bitten her, he saw her pathetic attempts to stand and walk over to him and her eventual failure as she collapsed back onto the couch.

He was afraid to look there too, knowing that if he looked where they had been sitting he would undoubtedly find the blood from where he had just fucked her into pieces.

And now it was his turn to be confused, because although he knew it was consensual he also felt like he had just used his best friend. Not only did he use her, but how he used her; it disgusted him and he didn't know if she could ever forgive him.

He walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with water, which he brought back to her. He could tell she was trying to say something but she seemed to be at a loss for words.

At least he wasn't the only one who didn't know what to say.

And Olivia wasn't even sure if she still possessed the capability of speech after he just fucked her like he did. Her body was still trying to recover enough to think, let alone talk. It was all she could do to sip the water and pray that she hadn't just made things worse.

Because his wife had left him, she had taken his kids, he was in trouble at work and the last thing he needed in his life was more crap to handle. She didn't want to be that to him. She didn't want to be something he had to handle.

She wanted to be his friend, his comfort zone, the one he would go to when his life was in shambles. She had been trying to comfort him. And apparently, he had been trying to pogo stick her.

At least that's how she felt, moments later, when he left her with nothing but a kiss on the top of her head and a million questions running through her mind.

So there she sat, alone in her apartment, stunned into silence, sipping a goddamned glass of water as Elliot was off to God knows where.

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><p>His hands were trembling as he knocked on her door. It was then that he realized they still had blood on them.<p>

He couldn't believe himself, he couldn't believe how selfish he was. Not only did he use his best friend but he had disrespected her in one of the most cruel ways.

And if that wasn't the cherry on the top of his fucking day, he still had to talk to his Captain about what had happened earlier with their case. The case that he was working on with his partner, the woman who he just left, sore, confused , and probably angry, on her couch.

"Elliot", said , Dr. Hendricks, "Come in."

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><p><strong>So, a little different, yes? I'm trying out some new genres. Let me know how I did.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**So who didn't love the scene when Elliot talked with Dr. Hendricks? Best part of the episode. This chapter is what was going through his mind durring his session with her. Enjoy.**

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><p>His words were foreign to him, as he went over what had happened with his shrink. He never liked therapy, but this was something he had to do. Even as the words were falling from his lips he couldn't bring himself to speak about what had just happened between him and Olivia a mere fifteen minutes ago.<p>

He still couldn't believe what he had done; any of it. Although he had every reason to, he couldn't believe how he attacked his old partner . . . And his current one.

"His son", he heard himself say, trying to find some justification, "He was hitting his son." Again he was pacing, it seemed to be all his body knew how to do. "One second he's got his kid up against a wall and the next I just busted his face wide open." _And the next I was fucking my partner._

"That's it?" She asked. "Remember anything else?"

Son of a bitch, had it been that obvious? Had she known from the second he walked in?

Maybe it was the sweat that had gathered on his forehead. Or, maybe it was the primal flare in his eyes. Or, maybe it was because he reeked of sex, and of Olivia.

"Looking in the mirror." He answered.

"And what did you see?"

"What difference does it make?" He asked harshly. He was ashamed. He didn't want anyone to know what he saw. He couldn't bring himself to give away the horrid images of shame and inadequacy that drove him to reach for his partner.

Finally he sat, exhaustion setting in, and buried his head in his hands. "What's wrong with me?" He asked himself. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me?"

Dr. Hendricks was unwavering. "Why did you come here?" She asked.

He sighed. "I had no place else to go." Had it been any other time he would have turned to Olivia. But that bridge was broken now, wasn't it? She could never forgive him for the way he had used her. And he could never bring himself to go back there and face her after what they had just done. "My Captain sent me home. I'm lucky he didn't suspend me."

She nodded. "You didn't go home."

"What's the point, though?" He was silent as he realized just how alone he really was. "My wife left me last year. She took the kids."

"Why did she leave?"

And then he laughed. He laughed because if he didn't, he'd cry. He was angry. He was angry all the time and he took it out on the ones that he loved. That's why his wife left him. She was tired of fighting.

And when he couldn't fight with her, he turned to Olivia. And when fighting didn't work, he turned to fucking; which, in this case, might have been worse than if he had punched her. Because either way, his hands had been on her and he feared that this time he had done too much damage to repair. His eyes weld up and he feared he was about to cry.

So he laughed.

"She was tired of me being angry all the time."

"Did you ever talk about it?" She asked.

He got up from the couch and turned his back, afraid to give away too much. "Yeah, I went to a priest for counseling but the next thing I know, she wanted out." He had never felt like more of a failure. He tried to be a good man and had Olivia been there she would have told him that he was. Well, she would have told him that, before.

He wasn't so sure now.

"I did everything I was supposed to do", he began, " I worked hard, I got a good job, I never cheated on my wife." His words tasted vile. Because even though he hadn't cheated today, he had been cheating for years. He was always with Olivia. She always had that parts of him that Kathy didn't and had Olivia given him any indication that it was okay he wasn't sure he wouldn't have taken her years ago.

"I've lost my kids." He wondered if she could even grasp what that had done to him. "I lost my children."

And again, he could have turned to Olivia but she wasn't there. She was always there, always found a way to give him what he needed and even today she had done that but he couldn't help but feel it wasn't what she really wanted.

It wasn't what he really wanted.

He didn't want to fuck her.

If he had it to do over again he would have held her, instead of held her down. He would have kissed her, instead of biting her. He would have been slow and caring instead of harsh and selfish.

He would have made love to her.

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way." He whispered.

"But it did." She said, clearly unaware of what he was really talking about. He sighed, the bitter truth fitting both situations. "What about what happened today?" She asked. "Did that make you feel better?"

That thought scared him. The thought of him actually liking violence, of being like those animals he locks up everyday. Was he really so out of control that she had to question him like that? Had he really lost that much of himself? It made him angry.

He looked at her, confusion and rage on his face. "What kind of question is that?" He had to know, because even he was wondering now. Even he was questioning his self control. After he grabbed Olivia. After he touched her. Even now he was questioning the lines between control and consent. "Are you judging me?"

"I'm not judging you." She said.

He hated how she was looking at him, scolding, accusing. "Don't look at me like I'm a perp." Because that was how he felt. "Look, I came here because", his words failed him as he realized the depth of what he had done, "This was a mistake."

He began walking towards the door, anguish and shame in each step. "Where are you going?" She asked. He didn't know. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was make sure that Olivia was okay and then he would crawl back to his apartment and. . . "How many times have you thought about eating your gun?"

The question, so brass, so unexpected, shook him to his very core. Because although he never tried, the thought certainly had crossed his mind.

He turned around and looked at her, trying to appear shocked. "Suicide is a sin."

"So is divorce."

_And so is rape._ He thought. Though he knew in the back of his mind that the encounter was consensual, he knew she would never want to be handled like that. It was something she did for him, not because she wanted to, but because he needed it.

And there it was again, the thought of him liking violence. He never meant to hurt her. God, he would kill himself before he'd let anything happen to her.

But the pesky little voice in the back of his head reminded him of how he took her. And once again, that damn voice reminded him that he had also just thought of suicide.

He walked back into the apartment and sat back on the couch.

"How long have you been at SVU?" She asked.

"Twelve years."

"The average tour is two."

"I love my job." _And my partner._

"What do you love about it?"

_Haven't I already answered that?_ "Getting justice for the victims and getting pervs off the street." He thought for a second about what he could say to make his answers less cliché, less obvious that he was struggling. "And I'm not burned out."

"Where you burned out on your marriage?"

That hurt but what hurt more was that he was burned out. "I told you she bailed. Not me." He wondered if it was a sin that he felt no shame in not missing her. He wondered how that was possible when he still felt the sting of her rejection. "You wanna cut me loose, ya know, give me a clue."

"Did your Captain give you a clue before he cut you loose?"

Fuck, this woman could hit where it hurt. "He told me a million times but I always blow it." Cragen wasn't the only one who he had run out of second chances with. "What can I tell ya? I guess I don't like being ordered around."

Dr. Hendricks smirked. "If you don't like being ordered around then why did you become a cop?"

He shrugged. "My father was on the job."

"He must be proud of you."

"He's dead."

She seemed unfazed. "He want you to go into the family business?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Kathy was pregnant."

"Was it what you wanted?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I wanted to be a cop all my life."

"Then why wasn't your father proud?"

He sighed. There was no way out of this. The woman had trapped him with his own words. Somehow from talking about a fight with a suspect's father they had wound up talking about his father.

And things would come forth. Things he could never share with anyone. He couldn't ever face the memories of his father's belt lashing against his skin. He could never face the shame of having to cry. Because he did cry.

He was Elliot Stabler and Elliot Stabler was not weak. He didn't need to cry. So why was he in tears now? Why was talking about his father so damn difficult and why did it seem like every move he made was still under his father's scrutinizing eyes.

Why did he feel like his father beating on his mother as he moved with Olivia.

"What did you see in that mirror today, Elliot?"

He got quiet and buried his head in his hands before collecting himself enough to look her in the eyes. "The guy my father always saw." And that's why he couldn't stand to look at himself. He couldn't stand to see the man who had beaten his ex- partner and taken advantage of the woman he loved.

"Your not weak." She said. "You're so busy being strong and helping everyone that you've got nothing left for yourself." He looked at her, almost questioning the truth in her words, wondering if she could see something in him that he couldn't. "It takes a lot more balls to talk about your problems than to beat the hell out of a ghost."

He remained silent and thought to himself.

She was right. If he could face his father, face what he had done to him, then he could face his own mistakes too. It was with that thought that he left Dr. Hendricks and headed down the streets of New York to Olivia.

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><p><strong>This was SOOOO hard to write. Am I keeping you on edge? How am I doing at suspense?<strong>

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

Elliot's knuckles tapped the door hesitantly. He wasn't sure what he would say when she opened the door, if she opened the door.

She probably didn't want to see him right now. She was probably in the shower washing off the scent of him and what they had done, what he had done to her, how he used her.

He felt like crap, knowing that his best friend was probably sitting in the tub, crying, and confused.

He really was a bastard, just too fucking horrible to live.

His mind kept replaying in horrible detail how forcefully he plunged into her body. Even now, he wasn't sure if her screams were that of pleasure or pain.

His conversation with Dr. Hendricks did nothing to help. It only served to make him more uncertain of what had gone on between them. When he had been pounding Pete, he was blinded by rage but, when he had been pounding into Olivia, he was blinded by lust.

Again, the thought of him liking violence crossed into his mind. Why did he have to talk to Hendricks? Why did she have to put that thought in his head?

It scared him; terrified him, actually.

The only thing good to come of his session was that he was now forced to face the feelings that had been swarming inside of him for years; starting with the ones for Olivia.

If she ever opened the door.

And as if God suddenly decided to pity him, her door swung open.

His eyes went wide as she stood in the doorway in nothing but a short, pink, satin robe that left nothing to the imagination.

His hands were clammy, his breaths were coming in short pants, and his pants were suddenly too tight.

A lot of fucking good that pity had done.

He shook his head and tore his eyes away from her body. He had come here for a reason and that reason didn't involve sex . . . no matter how much he wanted it to. This was not the time to give in to lust but it was hard for him to focus when he knew, first hand, what it was like to be inside of her.

"Come in." She said, her cheeks slightly red from the attention of his roaming eyes.

"Thanks." He said over his shoulder as he stepped through the door and made his way over to the couch. "I think we need to talk."

She let out a harsh chuckle as she sat down. "I think that's an understatement."

For once in his life he found himself totally unable to read her. She had let him into her apartment, so she obviously wasn't as mad as he thought, unless of course she planned on killing him. Not that he would blame her at all.

He watched her body language, saw how she had pulled her legs up on the couch and how her arms crossed over her chest. She was tense but he didn't know why.

Was she angry? Upset? Scared? Did she feel betrayed? Used? Cheap?

All of these questions swirled inside of him, tormenting him, because he knew she had every right to feel every one of these emotions and it would all be his fault. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He didn't know what else to say.

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "For what?"

Jesus Christ, she was going to make him say it.

The ultimate destruction of the man would be the words about to fall from his lips. Because he was sorry.

He was sorry for the violent way they had gone at it. He was sorry for leaving her to wonder about what had just transpired between them. He was sorry for fucking her, but he wasn't sorry for being with her.

That is, if she felt the same way.

Once again, it seemed God was taking pity on him because before he could speak again Olivia took the opportunity.

"Sorry for what, Elliot?" She began. "Sorry it happened?" He shook his head; no. "Then what?"

"Sorry for how it happened." He watched her eyes grow wide and he scooted closer to her on the couch. "And I shouldn't have left, either."

"Where did you go?" She asked, not missing a beat.

"Counseling." He said. "I needed to. . . I- there were just some things I needed to talk about."

She scooted closer to him. "You could have talked to me." Her voice lacked any emotion.

He scoffed. "I didn't think you would have wanted to talk to me then."

She was taken back by his response. "Elliot, that's what I was trying to do when you-"

And for some reason she couldn't finish. He was there, on her couch, in her apartment, apologizing for what she had hoped he would do for years.

He was single now. She was single too. She loved him; really, really, fucking loved him. She wanted him to rip off her robe and go for another round but he was apologizing.

Because he didn't want her. He had gotten what he wanted from her body and that was it.

No, she couldn't finish.

Elliot's eyes glossed over. She had given no indication that this was something she wanted. It was only something he had perused. It was a favor, something she did for him because he needed it.

"Why are you here, Elliot?" She asked, unable to withstand much more tension. "What do you want?"

He sighed. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." It was the truth. Really, after everything was said and done he just wanted to make sure the people he cared about were okay.

Even Pete, who had been taken away by medics, was on his list of well wishes. He was tired of losing people. He had lost his wife, his children, his friends. He couldn't lose her too.

And then he felt her hand on his back, rubbing in small, soothing circles as she cooed him. "Its okay, El." She said. In all his torment he hadn't realized that the tears gathering in his eyes had fallen. "I know this is hard for you but you're going to get through this." He searched her eyes, wondering why she was comforting him when he had been the one who so cruelly fucked her. "You couldn't have known about Pete." She said. "You were blindsided. It happens but its going to be okay."

Fuck, the woman could really get to him. It wasn't Pete he was upset about. It was her. He loved her and professed his love by disrespecting and debasing their friendship, her body, her. A fat chance in hell he had with her now.

And still, after everything that had happened, she was still there. She was holding him, comforting him. He was still welcome in her home.

"What the fuck are we doing Olivia?" He asked. "What does this all mean?"

She sighed and pulled away from him. "I was hoping you could tell me." They both let out a small chuckle and her arm returned to his shoulder, wrapping around him.

He shook his head. "I don't even know where to start."

Again she chuckled. This really was all too confusing. "Why don't you start by what happened this afternoon."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He figured as much. He knew they would have to talk about it eventually; after all, that was the reason he was there. But it didn't mean he was any more prepared to talk about it now then he was when he had been fucking her.

"I never meant to hurt you." And he didn't. Emotionally, physically, mentally, anything; he would never intentionally hurt her. "I'm sorry if I did."

"You didn't." She said. She saw the relief and shock in his eyes. "We both wanted it, El."

He wanted to cry again in relief. He had been so certain that she regretted it, that she felt used and betrayed. "God, I need to hear that." He said.

She gave him a small, sad smile. "Where the hell has your mind been?" She asked, knowing how cruel her own mind had been.

She was joking, but had she known, really known, the dark, sick, tormenting tricks, his mind had played on him, she wouldn't have been so casual.

"So, you don't regret it?" He asked, needing that final confirmation.

She looked at him, uncertain. "Well, I need to know what it means before I make any decisions like that."

He met her stare. "What do you want it to mean?"

She was getting frustrated now. Really, he need to stop playing with her. "I don't fucking know, Elliot. Why don't you tell me what you're thinking."

Her words were harsh but warranted. He nodded, willing to do whatever it took to end the conversation and get things back on track or at least back to normal.

"All I know is: I can't lose you too." His voice faltered a bit at the end. "Olivia, I keep losing people and I don't know what the hell it is I'm doing." He got quiet for a minute and sighed, realizing that after today they had changed the boundaries forever. "You know how I feel about you."

Her eyes went wide. "No, I don't." She said. And she knew. She fucking knew the second he sat on her couch and decided to talk this out. She just needed to hear him say it.

"I love you." He blurted out. "Does that make it better now? Does that change anything now that I admit that I'm fucking in love with you?"

"It does, actually." She whispered. And he hoped it would but he was still so fucking uncertain about her stance and too afraid of what might happen if she didn't feel the same way.

When the fuck did Elliot Stabler go from a tiger to a kitten?

But his fears, his uncertainty, the ambiguity of their friendship was all put to rest when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her.

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><p><strong>So this is where I let you decide if this is the end or you want more. <strong>

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you want it to be a full story, and, if you do want it to be a full story, what do you want to happen?**

**Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Contains spoilers for Starved **

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><p>He couldn't sleep. Really, he couldn't fucking sleep and God, he wanted to. The man was exhausted. After the day he had he wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and close his eyes for the next week.<p>

But he couldn't fucking sleep.

His apartment was too quiet. Every time he rolled in his sheets he couldn't help but think of Olivia's and how he never got to see them. He imagined they would be soft and smell like her. God, that fucking smell; and her taste. He almost cried when he brushed his teeth and her sweetness washed off his lips.

He closed his eyes and sighed, that small noise filling the room and he remembered how the air had once been filled with her gasps and his groans as he pounded into her hot, aching, body.

His flesh was steaming and his hands were trembling. He looked down at the now tented sheets around his middle and chuckled. It was fucking pitiful. She wasn't even there and already he was hard and wanting.

He thought back to their conversation when they were sitting on her couch and how he promised to make things work. But after an hour of convincing on both parts they hadn't decided on whether or not they could handle working together and being together.

It wasn't as if he would let his girlfriend just go after a perp. No, things would have to change but they were all changing too fast.

He wanted to take things slow. He valued her friendship too much to ruin it by rushing into things.

Even if that meant not having sex right away.

Even though they wanted to have sex right away.

Even though the sex they already had been earth-shattering, awe-inspiring, fucking first class phenomenal.

When did his hand become sticky? Why was he sweaty? And why the fuck was there cum on his sheets?

He sighed again. Yeah, this wasn't going to be easy, but this was Olivia and nothing about this woman was easy.

Fucking nothing.

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><p>Olivia was lying awake in her bed, reflecting on previous hours. Her apartment was quiet and she was lonely just laying there with her cell in her hand a dull ache between her legs to remind her of how she spent her afternoon.<p>

She wanted to press send. She had dialed his number a thousand times but she couldn't bring herself to push the call button.

He was probably asleep anyway.

She sighed and turned in her bed to rest on one of her pillows. She snuggled into it and smiled, wishing it were Elliot's broad chest.

She was restless. They had agreed on what had transpired between them was not a mistake but they hadn't yet discussed where this would talk them.

Their feelings were out in the open and she wanted to see how this would effect their partnership before she made any commitment.

His friendship was too valuable to her and she was not willing to lose that over something that may or may not work out. He seemed to understand that. He also seemed to understand that although he was separated he was still legally married and that made her uncomfortable.

For years Kathy had accused Elliot of cheating on her with Olivia. Though, that might have been true emotionally, he never touched her until they were legally separated.

But, God, she missed his touch. She wanted this to work; she wanted it with every fiber in her body but things were too unstable now and she had to feel secure in order to move forward.

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><p><strong>Two months later<strong>

Work was a bitch. They had what seemed to be a never ending case load and absolutely no free time. When Olivia was off, Elliot was working and vise versa.

The only time they spent together was when they were both too exhausted to move and were sent up to the cribs where they would take solace in the feel of each other's body pressed against there own.

It was never long before they heard the footsteps coming up from outside the crib and Elliot would hurriedly rush back to his own cot and pretend to be asleep until whoever was there went away. Then, when they were alone, he would sneak back onto her cot and shower her with kisses.

It was rough but at the moment it was all they could handle. They were determined to make this work, despite the challenges work posed.

It had been a few months since there incident and now they were moved on to a totally different case.

"He wants to buy Rachel a drink." Said while staring at the email on her computer. They were looking at a man who found his victims through an internet dating service and despite Elliot's concerns, she agreed to go undercover and smoke him out.

Elliot held his fear in his chest. He didn't like the idea of Olivia going to meet with a rapist. It didn't matter that they would be public. It didn't matter that he would be there along with plenty of backup. All that mattered was that Olivia, his Olivia, was going to meet with a rapist.

The night wore on as he watched her smile and flirt with the man sitting next to her. He knew it was a sting but he could help the pang of jealousy in his stomach.

With every passing second the night became less and less about catching a perp and more about how she so easily weaved this man into her trap.

And then the fucker put his hand on her knee. It took everything Elliot had for him not to go tackle the man sitting next to her.

"That fucker better take his hands off of her." He mumbled.

"Calm down, man", said Fin. "This is what we want and she's safe."

Elliot calmed a little when he saw Olivia walk away. His attention now turned to the man she had been with who bore a devious smile as he watched her leave.

They followed him, as he left, and tracked Olivia back to her apartment.

"We shouldn't have let her lead him to her real place", said Elliot. "We should have given her a crash pad. Now the bastard knows where she lives."

Fin and Elliot headed up the stairs to her apartment and managed to catch a glimpse as their suspect hid inside a storage closet.

Moments later he was in a hold and being taken down to the station. Elliot held in a laugh as Olivia walked into the interrogation room not as Rachel, but as Olivia Benson.

His Olivia Benson.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the wait. I had to figure out where I was going with this. Anyway, I'm hoping I am back on track and it wont take me so long to update next time.<strong>

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	5. Chapter 5

** Will contain spoilers for fault. Enjoy.**

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><p>"Its nice to finally be alone." Said Olivia as she flopped down on Elliot's couch. He handed he a glass of wine before sitting down next to her.<p>

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Yeah, things have been kinda crazy." He kissed the crook of her neck. "Its good to finally relax."

She squirmed at his touch. He always made her heart race. Elliot held her tighter as his kisses grew more frantic and hungry, making his way up to her lips. "Stay", he whispered against her skin. "Liv, stay with me tonight."

She smiled. "I want to." Her voice was soft. "But I don't think I should."

He sighed into the crook of her neck. "Why not?" He asked, kissing her again and he earned a strained, longing moan from her.

She tilted her head to give him better access to her pulse; which he found instantly and began sucking. "This is why", she moaned. "We agreed to take things slow."

He stopped then and looked up at her. "You don't want this?"

She smiled. "Of course I want this", she said. "But I don't want things to get weird. Your friendship means a lot to me, El." He nodded. "And its not like we didn't both freak out the last time."

"You know we never really did get to talk about that."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes we did."

"No Liv", he said, shaking his head. "We agreed that we didn't regret it but we never actually got to talk about what happened."

Olivia sat up straight, so that she could no longer feel his breath on her neck. "What did you want to say?"

He turned to face her completely, his eyes full of desire. "I had waited so long to be with you, Olivia." There was a slight shade of red on his cheeks and Olivia knew that this wasn't easy for him. "I had pictured it a million times."

She took his hand in hers. "Only a million, huh?"

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "I never thought that our first time together would be me fucking you on your couch."

He saw the disappointment in her eyes. Olivia was no hopeless romantic and he knew that. But he also knew that despite her hard exterior she probably wanted something a little more special than just being nailed in her living room.

She nodded.

"I keep kicking myself for leaving a bad impression."

She smiled and nudged his foot with hers. "You think you left a bad impression."

He let out a chuckle. "After my mind stopped torturing me and I was lying alone in my bed, the only thing I could think of was: fuck, now she thinks I'm bad in bed."

She laughed and scooted closer to him. "You think I think you're bad in bed?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly considerate." She didn't say a word, almost challenging him to embarrass himself further. The arm that was wrapped around her waist pulled her closer and his other arm brought her leg over his lap, resting on her thigh. "I'd like to make it up to you; if you want to, that is."

She smiled again and kissed his lips softly. "How?"

With one hand on her leg and the other wrapped around her waist, he pulled her onto the couch so she was lying on her back, Elliot between her legs.

He kissed her, making his intentions clear as he pressed his clothed erection into her. She let out a strangled moan at the friction the motion caused.

Her body started to ache with need and she clawed at his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. He gripped her hips and pulled her up to meet thrusts, signaling that he needed her now.

She giggled and struggled with the button of her jeans before Elliot reached for her waistband and ripped them open. They slid off easily and second later Elliot's pants had joined hers on the floor.

He struggled to contain himself, wanting this time to be slow unlike the savage way he'd fucked her months before. But, God, it was difficult and she was so beautiful. His name flew from her lips in a sultry moan and he knew he needed her now.

Elliot climbed back on top of her and began kissing her neck, hungrily. "I think you have a thing for couches", she whispered.

He looked at her, his expression changing to a look of confusion. "Do you want to take it to the bedroom?" He asked. Something in his voice bothered her. It was almost as if he was disappointed, like he wasn't sure he wanted her anymore.

"No", she said, "if this is what you want then I'm fine." She moved to kiss him again but stopped when he pulled away.

"What do you want?" He asked sincerely. He didn't want this to be another fuck. He had felt like crap at the thought of her feeling like a cheap lay and knowing that he had been the cause of that broke his heart. He wanted her, but not that bad. Not if it meant she felt like she had to reduce herself to that.

Olivia looked at their current position, his question still unanswered. Its wasn't that she didn't want to have sex with Elliot, it was that she wanted this time to be special. The first time they had gone at it, she was confused and tired and he was livid, covered in the evidence of a bathroom fist fight.

Olivia would hardly call herself a romantic but fuck if she didn't want something a little more classy then being fucked a second time on a couch.

She must have taken too long to answer because Elliot had pulled her to sit on the couch as he moved off of her and gathered her jeans from the floor.

"We don't have to do this, Olivia." He said. "I understand if you don't want to."

And fuck if she didn't feel like a prude teenager in her boyfriend's mom's basement. Things were getting pretty hot and heavy until he pulled away from her. "You think I don't want this?" She asked, confused.

He picked up his shirt and put it on, leaving it unbuttoned. "I can't say that I blame you after the last time." His eyes still bore the fear that had, in fact, hurt her. He was angry, he was scared, he was outraged and he had taken those emotions out on her. He wasn't gentle. He wasn't careful. He didn't even give her a god damned second to object. It all happened so quickly. How could she forgive him?

"Are we back on this again?" She asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"You brought it up." He scoffed. "Olivia, I don't know what you want me to do."

"I don't know what you want!" She was getting angry now. "Elliot ever since that day in my apartment you've done nothing but contradict yourself . How am I supposed to know what you want when you wont tell me?"

He rose from the couch, unable to remain sitting. "Don't start on me about not talking about how I feel, Olivia. I've been seeing a shrink. I've been as open with you as I possibly can be but I can't talk to you about you!"

"Well then, who do you talk to?" She asked, just as livid. "You used to come to me about everything."

He laughed harshly. "Guys don't talk to girls about girls. Normal men talk to their best friend."

"Yeah", she exclaimed, "at one point that was me."

And then it dawned on them. The reason they were fighting, the reason they couldn't move any further.

You can't talk to your girlfriend about work if she's your partner.

You can't talk to your best friend about your boyfriend if its him.

And you can't talk to your partner about your relationship if she's involved in the romance.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" She asked, heartbreak in her voice.

"Don't", he began, "don't say that."

He sat down next to her and pulled her close to him. "You know that I love you. You know that I can't lose you."

Olivia held her tears in, just barely. "How can we make this work? There is a reason why you can't date your partner, Elliot."

He was quiet for a while, trying to figure out the right words to say. "Then we'll just have to see what's the most important to us." She looked at him questioningly. "We have to see if risking our friendship and partnership is worth this." He punctuated his sentence by slipping an arm around her. "All I know is, either way, I can't lose you."

His eyes left hers and in that moment she had never felt so completely trusted than she did right there, with him baring his soul. "I just keep losing people, Liv. I can't lose you too."

She wrapped her arms around him. "You wont", she said. "We just have to figure out what we're going to do next."

His phone rang then; Cragen's ring tone and they were being called on a case. Elliot closed his phone and shook his head. "We'll have to talk about it later", he said. "Triple homicide and double kidnapping; two small children."

Olivia ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "Who are the victims?"

"The Cliffards. Mr. and Misses were both found dead in the kitchen by their neighbor. Their teenage daughter, also dead, was raped and the missing children are presumed still alive; names are Ryan and Rebecca Cliffard."

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><p><strong>The End.<strong>

****Well, folks, that's it. I hope you enjoyed this story. It was definitely difficult and different to write. I wanted the story to fit in completely with the series as a back story throughout season seven. I hope it worked.****

**Please review.**


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